


Laundry Day by Madison

by sgamadison



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-20
Updated: 2010-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-12 01:37:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgamadison/pseuds/sgamadison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was totally and completely embarrassing...and the hottest thing in his recent memory. A little PWP.  Set in Season 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laundry Day by Madison

**Author's Note:**

> Written as comment porn on Frottage Friday but it got carried away...

  
"How much longer is this going to take, Rodney?" John whined for what had to be the fifth or sixth time, Rodney was sure.

"I told you before that this was going to be tedious and time consuming," Rodney said irritably, trying to inch his way a little further down the narrow access tube and push his laptop ahead of him at the same time. It was hard making forward progress while lying on his back. Still, it was the only way to run the series of tests that he needed to perform on the circuitry above his head.

John's voice came from somewhere below his feet. If Rodney lifted his head and looked between his toes, he could just see the top of John's head, with its irrepressible tangle of dark hair, scant inches away from his boots. Not even the beginnings of a thin patch, Rodney thought sourly. Which simply wasn't fair. John was _older_ than him, damn it.

The momentary irritation passed. Rodney _liked_ John's hair. Not that he'd admit it. And he'd certainly feel a pang of...something...if John's hair suddenly began acting its age.

"Remind me again why I'm here in the first place?" John's suddenly sarcastic drawl drifted up from below, sounding oddly intimate in the close quarters of the maintenance shaft.

Rodney was temporarily unable to answer, as he was holding a screwdriver in his mouth. He disconnected the diagnostic scanner from the crystal circuitry and stuffed it, along with the tool, back into the front of his jacket so as to free his hands for hauling himself along the tube again to the next station. Closing the panel over the circuitry cut off the blue-white light that had been illuminating the shaft, leaving the two of them to adjust their eyes to the barely sufficient glow of the emergency lighting system.

"You're here because I can't run diagnostics, think Ancient-y thoughts and make repairs all at the same time. And because you get bored easily and thought sitting around in the dark was less fun than crawling through the maintenance system watching me perform feats of magic." Rodney pushed the laptop a little further in front of him and hitched up on his elbows in the tight space, so he could roll onto his stomach again. He was disconcerted to discover he could not complete the turn.

"What's the hold up, McKay? Get a move on." John's hand on his ankle made Rodney jump a little, embarrassing him with the strength of his reaction.

Embarrassment quickly faded to alarm when he realized he was stuck.

He flailed around with a hand behind his back, reaching for the tool belt at his waist, feeling where it seemed to be hung up on something attached to the wall. The inability to move in such a narrow space caused him to fight the spacing even more vigorously, and he felt the panic closing in on him like a straightjacket.

"I'm stuck!" His voice rose with alarm and he cursed when he banged an elbow painfully against the side of the shaft. He began to scrabble around harder, trying to free himself.

"Hey, watch it!" John sounded pissed as a boot narrowly missed his face. "What do you mean, stuck? Stuck on what?"

"I don't know, it's my belt, it's caught on something." Rodney began to hyperventilate. He hadn't wanted to admit, even to himself, that he'd asked John to come with him on the repair mission because John had a way of distracting Rodney from his dislike of small spaces with the teasing banter and John's hard-to-ignore presence. The realization that he was stuck and unable to turn properly to see what was going on brought all of Rodney's claustrophobic fears crashing in.

"Hang on, buddy." John's voice was suddenly soothing.

  
 _If he tells me to 'whoa, now', I might just have to kick him, just like one of his precious horses._ As though reading his thoughts, John caught hold of Rodney's feet and began pulling himself up alongside Rodney in the tube. "I'll get you loose, just give me a sec."

"If you make one crack about how this wouldn't have happened if I lost some weight..." Rodney warned in a shaky voice as John wedged himself in between Rodney and the wall, with his face at the level of Rodney's waist. He reached around behind Rodney to try and free the belt.

"Who me?" John asked mockingly. His hands were hard against the small of Rodney's back, working to follow the belt back to the offending obstacle that was catching it. "I think you're confusing me with Ronon."

  
 _Not likely_. Rodney swallowed hard as he felt John push up against him with a grunt of frustration as the belt refused to budge. Rodney was seized by the sudden impulse to take John's face in his hands and pull John into Rodney's belly, carding his fingers through John's hair and finding out once and for all if it was coarse or soft to the touch.

The intensity of the impulse made Rodney shudder slightly. Could people die from sheer embarrassment? Surely phrases like 'I could have just _died_ ' would not have made it into the lexicon if at some point it hadn't actually happened, right?

"I don't get it," John said, oblivious to Rodney's discomfort. "You should just be able to slide back down and unhook the belt. Work your way back down to me, Rodney." John's hands came around towards Rodney's fly, following the tool belt and trying unsuccessfully to undo the buckle. The thought of John's hands on his zipper made Rodney think of all sorts of wild and crazy things. He got a sudden mental flash of John undoing the zip slowly, reaching into Rodney's pants and palming his cock while John watched him with a wicked smile on his face...of all the wrong times for inappropriate fantasies to take place...

"Nope," John said with a frown. "There's too much tension on the belt. I can't get it loose that way." He braced his hand against the wall by Rodney's hip as Rodney tried to wriggle his way back towards John.

"Well, of _course_ there's too much...tension...on the belt," Rodney took refuge in irritability. "I need room to maneuver and now, with you here with your bony elbows poking me in the belly, there's less room than ever." He was horribly aware of how all this wriggling and pressing together of bodies in a narrow space was starting to have an effect on his cock. He didn't want to think of what John's reaction would be if he knew Rodney was getting hard over this. At the same time, he wanted nothing more but to push up against John some more, to satisfy that heat pooling in his groin and the _need_ thrumming in his veins.

"Okay, I'll come up then." Before Rodney could protest that this was not a good idea, John was crawling up his body, the clean scent of his soap filling Rodney's nostrils and making him think crazy thoughts again. Thoughts of grabbing John's hips with his hands and grinding up against him. Of pinning John to the opposite wall and savagely kissing him. Taking John's hand and placing it over Rodney's cock, saying ' _this is what you do to me_ '. Rodney let his head fall back to the panel behind him with a thump as he closed his eyes.

"It's a good thing we're only dealing with a little power outage and not a bona fide emergency," John said as he pushed and hitched his way until he and Rodney were face- to-face, with John sprawled on top of him. Rodney opened his eyes to see John take the edge of a pocket-knife in his teeth and open the blade one-handed.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Rodney exclaimed at the sight. "What do you think you're going to do with that?"

John sighed and motioned with the knife towards Rodney's back, as though he were contemplating nothing more than peeling an apple. "I'm going to cut you loose, Rodney."

"Wait, you can't see what you're doing and you're planning to fish around with a knife and just hope you cut the right thing?" Rodney hated when his voice rose with indignation but at least maybe John wouldn't think it was due to alarm.

"What's the matter, Rodney, don't you trust me?" John's tone and his trademark half smile made the words seem like his usual banter, but somehow they hung, pregnant with meaning, in the air between them. The air that had suddenly become very heavy and thick. Rodney could feel each breath John took as every exhalation on John's part brought his abdomen in contact with Rodney's. _This is how it was meant to be_ , Rodney thought disjointedly. _Everyone needs this kind of contact with another, living, breathing being. As proof that you are alive_. It had been a long time since Rodney had had that kind of proof.

"Well, McKay?"

Rodney could tell from the stiffening of John's body and the blankness of his face that he'd taken just a bit too long to answer. And suddenly he realized that the answer was very important to John.

"Of _course_ I trust you, you moron," Rodney would have gibbsmacked him, but there was no room. He settled for a Level 2 Glare instead. "I trust you to keep me in check when my ego threatens to run away with me. I trust you to always do the right thing, even when it is not in your best interest. I trust you with my _life_ , over and over again. Sharp pointy things? Not so much. For starters, you seem to keep getting impaled."

For an instant, Rodney was treated to John's startled expression, his eyebrows rising comically into his chaotic hairline, his mouth falling open slightly in surprise. The lighting in the tube seemed to pick out John's perpetual two-day stubble, accentuating his very masculinity. Rodney watched John's throat as he swallowed hard suddenly.

It was more than Rodney could bear. With a groan of frustration, he brought his hands up to capture John's head and he pulled John down on top of him for a fierce kiss.

John pulled back so sharply that he whapped his head on the opposite wall. The pocket- knife fell out of his hand as he brought his hand up to rub the back of his head. "What the fuck was _that_ , Rodney?" He was still open-mouthed and somewhat breathless as he gaped at Rodney.

"Oh please," Rodney made a face. "Don't tell me you didn't see _that_ coming?"

John stared at him for several seconds, blinking in a state of incomprehension that was starting to make Rodney mentally writhe with embarrassment when his expression slowly altered.

Rodney's only warning was that John's breathing pattern changed just before he pounced.

He couldn't help it; Rodney yelped when John suddenly moved, gripping his shoulders tightly and pushing up against him for a savage kiss. Their mouths met and opened to take each other in, tongues thrusting against each other even as their bodies were seeking leverage somehow, some way, one against the other. John dragged his mouth wetly across Rodney's neck, the rasp of his stubble against Rodney's skin making him wild to get more skin-to-skin contact with John. Their hands fumbled together, pulling at clothing, blindly seeking skin. Rodney groaned into the side of John's neck when John palmed his cock through his pants. It wasn't enough.

Rodney pulled the neck of John's t-shirt aside so that he could mouth John's collarbone, one hand having worked its way up under the shirt so that he could grip John by his shoulder and hold him down against Rodney. He could feel John pushing against him with his whole body, could hear John's boots scrabbling for purchase on the metal decking as the two of them moved against each other. John's back was getting slick with sweat and it was a heady experience for Rodney to realize it was because of _him_.

John in the meantime had managed somehow to get Rodney's fly open and was now roughly pulling Rodney's pants down over his hips.

"Brilliant idea," he panted as he licked John's collarbone and gave it a final nip in passing.

"I have them sometimes," John said mockingly as he slid his hand down inside Rodney's boxers and took hold of him. Rodney lost several moments in the wonder of all that warm heat massaging his dick before it occurred to him that he should be giving some attention back. He fumbled with John's fly and felt a jolt of pure lust burst through him when he realized that John had gone commando, his fingers exploring skin and hair alike until they discovered John's cock, pulsing upward into his touch and already wet at the tip.

It was certainly crazy and probably wrong and not entirely _comfortable_ , but five years of pent up passion came pouring over Rodney like a tide of molten lava. He wasn't sure he could stop it even if he had wanted to at that point. Still mostly dressed, hands shoved into each other's pants, fingers stroking and pressing and griping even as mouths found and moved against each other, it was the hottest, _dirtiest_ thing Rodney had ever done. John was still straining against him and Rodney imagined the two of them in another place, in Rodney's quarters with John bent over Rodney, folding him in half as he slowly pushed his cock inside Rodney's ass. Rodney felt his hole clench in anticipation and suddenly his balls tightened and he began to chant 'oh, oh, oh' as he came.

John gave a little pleased laugh as he did and the sound did something weird to Rodney's heart. He lay for a moment in relaxed pleasure before he realized that John had let go of Rodney's cock and was jacking his own. There wasn't much room. John had to brace himself above Rodney with his left hand to even get any space between them, the muscles of his forearm in high definition as he held himself up by one hand. He moved his right hand swiftly up and down his cock—all business, no fancy twists or pulls, just a rapid finishing off of his own climax.

He tipped his head back as best he could in the tight quarters when he came, closing his eyes and letting his mouth fall open. Rodney watched in fascination as John's cock pulsed and jumped in his hand, small jets of come spurting out over his hand and onto Rodney's stomach, which clenched at the unexpectedly warm contact. John let his head hang forward as he finished, releasing his cock to use both hands now to hold him up. Rodney reached up and took John by the shoulders, pulling him down so that John lay sprawled across his chest.

  
 _All time needs to stop now_ , Rodney thought lazily.

After a few moments, John began to shift. As much as Rodney regretted it, breathing was a nice option.

John lifted himself up just far enough to look Rodney in the eye. "You knew?" Rodney had a hard time telling from his tone whether John was pissed or stunned. "You knew and you never said anything?"

"That you were gay? Um, yes. Pretty obvious actually. Well, when you know what to look for. Which I do. So, um, yes."

"You never said anything." This time, John definitely sounded accusing. The emergency lighting lent a dangerous glitter to his hazel eyes.

"You didn't seem to want anyone to know," Rodney said tartly, raising an accusing eyebrow back at him.

"What about you?" John growled, ignoring Rodney's perfectly logical and sound point and taking the offensive. "What about Katie Brown? What about Jennifer?"

"I kept telling myself you weren't available." Rodney felt like an idiot, which he _hated_. "And you aren't, are you?"

For an answer, John tucked himself back in, closing his fly before reaching down for the fallen knife. Rodney watched as John lifted himself up once more and slid the blade carefully under the leather band of the tool belt. The knife felt cool against Rodney's skin where his clothing had been pushed aside and a part of him knew he should be afraid but he found it impossible to be so. This was _John_ , after all.

It took several moments of determined sawing, but finally the leather parted beneath the efforts of the knife. Rodney gave a little sigh of relief that felt more like regret when John closed the pocket-knife and began to slide down his body away from him. Rodney pulled his pants back up over his hips with difficulty in the tight space, thinking that there was just no way for that not to look silly.

In silence, Rodney kept pushing his laptop in front of him as he moved, listening to the sounds of John following behind him, wondering what on earth he'd say to John when they got out of the tube at the other end and stood upright facing each other.

Rodney climbed out of the access shaft and took two steps over to the nearest control panel, where he began punching in the corrected codes. To his immense relief, the power in the whole section came back on. He studied the readouts as he put himself back together the rest of the way before turning to face John.

"Well, that's done it," Rodney said, determined to act as though nothing had happened. "Everything's back to the way it was." He winced even before he finished his sentence and then sputtered, "I mean, everything's back to normal. The power! The power's back on."

"I can see that, McKay." John looked as though a smirk might be lurking somewhere around the corners of his mouth, but Rodney could not be sure. All he knew is that he wanted to kiss John again very badly, which didn't bode well for his theory that all he had to do was have sex with John once and he'd get John out of his system. John looked like he'd been thoroughly kissed and had obviously had sloppy sex recently. Rodney found himself staring, realizing he knew what John looked like when he came and wondering what he'd look like after he'd been fucked senseless. And that he'd never know.

John held out the tool belt.

"Oh." Rodney felt himself flush, which was just stupid, there was no reason to flush over a goddamned tool belt, for crying out loud. He reached for it awkwardly, already overloaded with equipment.

"Maybe I should just hang on to this," John suggested.

"Okay, sure, thanks." Rodney could play it cool. He could _do_ this. "Okay, well then. If you don't mind, you can just run it down to the labs when you get the chance."

"Nope. I don't think so," John shook his head sadly.

"Oh?" Rodney didn't know how to react to that.

"Yep." John had dropped his chin and was looking up at Rodney sideways with a calculating air. "I think you're just going to have to come down to my quarters and pick it up later."

There was a pause while Rodney processed that.

"Really?" Okay, that wasn't incredulous delight in his voice, that was disbelief. "Your place?"

John grinned as he draped the tool belt draped over one shoulder. "Yeah. I gotta do some laundry. I'm out of underwear."

As a parting line, it wasn't half-bad.

~fin~

  



End file.
